


Past, Present, and Future

by HagSpice



Series: Twyle Series [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Crenny, Domestic Fluff, Friendship, Introspection, M/M, Married Life, Memories, Past Style, Twlye, so very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-07 15:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17368871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HagSpice/pseuds/HagSpice
Summary: Excited to spend the evening with friends and share some important news, Kyle reflects on his relationship with Tweek. When he has a surprise encounter with an old flame, his remembrances deepen, bringing to light the ways even bittersweet memories and heartbreak can lead to a life filled with more joy than he ever thought possible.





	Past, Present, and Future

**Author's Note:**

> A little AU where Kyle and Kenny grew up together, as did Tweek and Craig, with them all meeting in college. This is the softest thing I've ever written. Soft like a newborn bunny. I absolutely love writing Kyle and adding bits of Jewish culture. Damn, I love that boy.
> 
> I plan to make this a short series about Tweek and Ky's relationship over the years. It'll include Kyle’s breakup with Stan, how he and Tweek got together, a near relationship-ending fight…and some adult content, because that's what I do.
> 
> Thanks to residentdjinn of the ElderGays for beta'ing!
> 
> So, to the other three people who like Twyle,  
> This is for you <3

_Olivia. Not bad. Spencer. Hmm, put that one on the short list. Rose. Can’t go wrong with elegance. Miriam. So stereotypical, but classic. Diana. Strong, refined. Cecily. Sweet. Zelda. A truly badass name, though it means ‘old woman’ and is incredibly Jewish. Still a top contender._

Kyle tugged his glasses off and massaged his temples. He loved working in the city, but the low set sun of winter made a horrible glare on the window laden buildings. Thankfully, he would be home soon, in his warm house, with his husband and their plans for the future.

_Alexander. Too conquer-y. Jason. Meh. Benjamin. Meh. Asher. Okay, that’s pretty damn adorable. Henry. Cute. Ephraim. Again, very Jewish, but Tweek loves oldfashioned names. Vincent. Dignified, classic._

Kyle repeated the names in his head, attempting to file them away for later. There was ample time to settle on names, but it wasn’t the sort of decision to make on a whim; not that his in-laws would understand that. As he walked into the bakery, a bell hanging over the door chimed, alerting the strawberry blonde woman behind the counter. Perking up, she flashed him a knowing smirk.

“Hey, Millie.”

“Heeey Kyle,” Millie grinned and slid a yellow cake box across the counter. “I assume you’re here for this?”

Kyle chuckled lightly and cradled the box against his body. “Yeah. We’re having guests over for dinner, and Tweek is so excited, he forgot to bring this home after his shift.”

Millie hummed in curiosity. “Yep, sounds like Tweek, alright. Hmm, juicy gossip over dinner, I take it? Care to share?”

Kyle pointed a finger at her. “In due time, just wait your turn.”

“Oh, alright,” she pouted. “Oh. That’s an experimental flavor, clementine sponge cake with cardamom glaze. Tweek’s pretty proud of it.”

Citrus, of course. Craig didn’t much care for chocolate desserts. Sure he’d have a small piece of something if offered, merely out of courtesy, but chocolate and frosting weren’t really his things. Kyle often teased Tweek about spoiling their friends, but truthfully, it was one of his favorite things about the man. Kyle felt his lips quirk in a fond smirk and then pressed them into a hard line to avoid drawing attention to it. Their most recent anniversary. Tweek couldn’t decide what dessert to make, so instead, he prepared three flavors of mousse and two miniature cakes, hoping that at least one would be Kyle’s new favorite. As if he wouldn’t joyfully devour everything that his husband made. The two of them had ended up in bed at three in the morning, with Tweek straddling Kyle’s hips as he spoon fed him halva flavored mousse.

At Millie’s quizzical expression, Kyle quickly changed the subject. That particular memory was prime fodder for juicy gossip, but he wasn’t inclined to share it. “I don’t suppose you also have a spare loaf of Italian bread?”

Millie tapped a finger on her chin, scanning the baskets on the wall behind her. “It appears I do, lemme bag it for you.”

* * *

 After Kyle thanked her and left the shop, he headed for the train station, taking the opportunity to run through the list of names again. The sidewalk was blessedly clear of slush and snow, allowing him to clip along at a steady pace, accompanied by the crunch of salt crystals under his feet. Frowning down at his shoes, Kyle rolled his eyes. _Fucking salt._ The city always put too much salt down, (probably to avoid injury lawsuits) and dammit, it was hell on his shoes. Sure, he could just wear a pair of sensible, ugly shoes during winter, but… ew, no thank you. _Vanity, thy name is Kyle._

The automatic doors of the train station parted to make way for bustling passengers whose faces mimicked his own determined expression. They were brothers in arms, returning home from war to heal before charging in again. Kyle sighed in satisfaction as marvelous, wonderful heated air surrounded him as he entered the buzzing terminal and paused to retrieve his pass from his satchel.

“Kyle? Hey Kyle, over here!”

With a slight feeling of dread, Kyle looked up and turned in the direction of the voice. Stan. Stan Marsh. Someone he hadn’t seen in nearly ten years, and had hoped to keep that streak going. Despite the warm gusts streaming from the vents, Kyle felt a cascade of coldness fall over him. The beat of his heart swallowed the sounds of the train station, thrumming like a djembe and blurring everything surrounding the man walking toward him.

To say Stan broke his heart would be a disservice to the Kyle he left in his wake. He had been a devastated, husk of a human. There were so many broken promises and missed opportunities with his friends, because he always picked Stan over them in his desperation for affection. He had finally felt like he was good enough, Stan never told him that he could be doing or achieving more. Kyle hadn’t considered that was because Stan’s expectations of him were so low that by merely being enrolled in college and having a nice ass were enough for him. Though it damn near broke Kyle at the time, Stan had really done him a favor by ending things to stay with his longtime girlfriend.

_“Don’t you want to find a nice girl? Wear a blazer with those leather patches on the elbows while you lecture a room of students? To come home to your craftsman bungalow with original stained glass windows and little daywalker children?”_

_”Yeah, Stan I do want those things, but with a_ guy _. I’m gay for fucks sake. And I’m so stupid, that up until now, I thought I could have those things with y-”_

_“This isn’t a relationship, Kyle.”_

Kyle braced himself, wishing the intricately patterned floor tiles would open into an abyss and take him into its dark embrace. But he’s a grown man now, not the insecure person he was when they knew each other. Just as he recovered from his devastation, he would endure this abrupt reunion. “Uh wow. Hi Stan. This is a surprise. It’s been…a long time.”

Stan stopped in front of Kyle, wearing the same easygoing smile he had all those years ago. He looked well, showing some signs of age like the rest of their classmates, but seeming healthy and happy. Stan scanned Kyle’s body, taking in the changes the past ten years brought. On his second pass, Stan’s eyes stopped at the fingers wrapped around the yellow cake box. “You’re married, I see. Mazel tov, dude.” he sounded sincere, but there was a sort of flicker in his blue eyes. “What’s his name?”

Kyle blinked, utterly gobsmacked. Stan explicitly acknowledged Kyle’s homosexuality for the first time, and without any outward sign of discomfort. Part of him insisted this was too little too late, but the other part of him eased at the thought that Stan made some sort of progress, somewhere. “Oh! His name’s Tweek. We’ve been together for about nine years and married for six.”

“Wow. That’s awesome, man.” Stan nodded along, then his eyes widened in recognition. “Wait, you mean your old roommate, Tweek?”

He remembered that? Stan always gave the impression that he had no interest in Kyle’s personal life, but it turned out that he had listened.

Grinning like a sentimental sap, Kyle could gladly talk about his marriage. “Yeah, we were roommates. I can’t believe you remember that. We got together during the last semester of school.”

When things ended between he and Stan, Kyle went on an epic bender that could rival any of Stan’s episodes. It took his roommates picking his lock and crashing into his room with nutritional snacks, water and electrolyte drinks, for Kyle to come out of his numb haze. Kyle hadn’t said Stan left him, but he was sure Tweek and Kenny just _knew_. They simply climbed in bed with him, cuddling him on either side and petting his hair. They forced Kyle to accept their coddling, kept the mood light, and made sure he went to class.

During his recovery, Kenny began to find excuses to leave he and Tweek alone together. ‘Nah, you guys stay put, I can do the grocery shopping,’ or ‘Oh darn, I watched this episode like three days ago. You guys go ahead, I’ll come back in a little bit’. The increased alone time led to Kyle and Tweek discovering similar tastes, bickering over opposing ones, but also Tweek humming soothing melodies when Kyle became restless, and the two of them falling asleep curled up together. Kenny was a sneaky little bastard, but Kyle and Tweek reciprocated by playing matchmaker with him and Craig.

“This is just- Wow it’s so random. What are you up to now?”

“Oh, I’m a sociology professor and I’m wrapping up my PhD. Tweek works in a bakery, but he’s switching to part time soon to be a stay-at-home papa. We’re um, on a waitlist to adopt and also looking into possibly getting a surrogate.”

They were actually having friends over tonight so they could share the news, hence the cake. Kyle hadn’t meant to monopolize the conversation by gushing about his husband and their burgeoning parenthood to his ex-lover, he just couldn’t help it. Growing embarrassed, Kyle’s chipper tone faded, and he trailed off in a self-conscious manner.

“Shit. I’m rambling, sorry. Please tell me about yourself.”

Kyle’s swept his eyes over Stan. He definitely still had some of that lean muscle, and his thick black hair showed no sign of thinning. He had both hands tucked into his pockets, so no view of a wedding ring, but then again, not everyone wore rings. Kyle and Tweek had forgone the Jewish tradition of plain wedding bands for ones from an antique store. Kyle opted for a filigree band, while Tweek enthusiastically picked an old Mason ring, proclaiming, ‘So fucking Illuminati.’

“Well, I’m a geotechnical engineer at a firm in Boulder. I came in for the weekend to meet up with some guys from the university baseball team, a reunion of sorts. Um, Wendy and I are married; we have a four year old daughter, Amelia. We uh, separated for a year or two a while back, but we worked through everything. I mean, we wouldn’t have had a kid if things weren’t working out, you know?” He gave Kyle a sheepish smile, while he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I know what you mean, truly. A relationship can push you to the point of break, but they’re worth it, you know? It’s admirable that you and Wendy stuck together and worked through everything. Not everyone is willing to rebuild their relationship.”

Kyle glanced at the illuminated clock mounted over the entrance of the station. “Oh, shit, I need to go. I would just wait for the next train, but Tweek and I are expecting company.”

Kyle floundered, realizing that with the parcels in his arms, he didn’t have a free limb for a handshake or anything. However, Stan noticed and clasped his arm, giving it a squeeze.

“Oh sure, of course! I’m glad we ran into each other, dude. I can see how happy you are, it like, radiates from you.”

“You too, Stan. It’s wonderful to know you’re doing well and you and Wendy have made a family together.”

Stan nodded and gave Kyle a lopsided smile. “Thanks, Kyle. Good luck with the adoption.”

“Take care, dude. Love the hell out of your girls.”

* * *

 It was over so soon, it felt like an out of body experience; Kyle didn’t even have a chance to notice his emotions until after he walked away. Standing at the boarding platform, a waning rush of adrenaline ran through his nervous system. It felt genuine and Kyle meant everything he said to Stan. They didn’t need to apologize or ask for forgiveness, because they could see any regret in each others faces; and after so many years, it didn’t need to be picked apart again.

On the train, Kyle absently watched the scenery scroll by. The buildings and houses that gradually thinned at the edge of the city, and the corona around the setting sun that melted from shades of blushing orange into deep marine. Even when he and Tweek worked on the same days, they took the train at different hours and different parts of the city. The commute to and from work was a reprieve, a small break from the world and chance to let his mind drift- and occasionally an opportunity to nap or create a last minute lesson plan.

Reflecting on how he would have reacted to this situation in the past, he knew without a doubt he would have denied contributing to his own bitterness; to casually forget he withheld his own expectations and intentions from Stan. He would have been angry, most likely. Not at anything specific, but anger and frustration at not having control of a random happenstance. And Stan. He definitely would’ve blamed Stan for his sour feelings, because Stan hurt him, and it was easier to claim Stan had stolen some piece of him instead of taking responsibility for himself.

Years ago, he would’ve got a vengeful thrill knowing that Stan and Wendy had separated; but believing that people can grow, and heal, and love was so much better than being a petty troll. Clearly, Stan had changed as well. To what extent, he didn’t know, but perhaps he grew to accept some things about himself. And maybe, just a little, Kyle had been a catalyst for that change. If Kyle had to distill one sentiment from his teaching experience, it would be that you can’t tell people to think a certain way. You need to plant the seeds, nurture them, and hope they grow.

Surrounded by memories, Kyle exited the train, and walked to his car. How much had he and Tweek changed since college? Their relationship came together like water flowing downstream. Occasionally parting around rocks, to blend together once again. They traversed the river deltas, leaving detritus behind, before reaching the sea.

A year or so after he and Tweek married, they started going to therapy together and individually. Tweek’s anxiety and depression manifested in OCD rituals and catatonic depression, while Kyle expressed his anxiety with manic anger or self hate. Their relationship wasn’t in trouble per se, but they knew that some of their similarities made it difficult to work through their most serious arguments.

Their arguments had previously sounded like two yowling cats, their passion overriding their reasoning, and resulting in malicious sniping or aggressive sex that resolved nothing. Not that they still didn’t fight on occasion, but now they understood their weaknesses and motivations well enough to keep their emotions from overtaking the issue at hand. In fact, they’d had an argument just last week. Somehow they landed on the subject of postmodern art, finding that they held conflicting opinions.

_“Christo? Seriously, Tweek?! Are you insane? His stupid umbrellas killed two people!”_

_“Better than freaking John Cage! He -ngh- wrote a piece of literally_ nothing _and tried to pass it off as ‘innovative’.”_

* * *

 The moment Kyle opened the front door, the comforting scent of Tweek’s cooking rolled out into the crisp winter air- and fuck yes, it was just the meal he needed today. Spaghetti Bolognese was Kyle’s favorite Tweek-made meal. He insisted that it didn’t require much effort, just time and low heat to marry the flavors; however, Kyle would always shush him and tell him to just take the damn compliment.

Tweek was at the stove, the handle of a wooden spoon clamped between his teeth as he minced a carrot. He always kept a dish towel slung over his shoulder when he was in the kitchen; a seemingly insignificant thing that meant the world to Kyle.

Setting the pastries on the counter, he shuffled behind his husband and wrapped his arms around his waist. Kyle nuzzled into Tweek’s wavy hair and breathed in his scent. God, if they used either of their genetic material to create a child, the poor kid would have an uncontrollable head of hair no matter what.

“I swear your recipe changes every time you make this, but somehow it always tastes the same. You’re a wizard, Harry.”

Tweek scoffed, but Kyle didn’t miss the smile he tried to hide. “Mmm it’s not magic; it needed more carrot, these tomatoes were too acidic. It’s all about balance.”

“Uh huh. An alchemist, then.” Kyle gave Tweek a squeeze, and in return, Tweek leaned into Kyle’s embrace, nosing his neck. “So, when are the McTuckers coming over?”

Tweek hummed as he pushed the minced carrot into the pot. “About forty minutes. And please call them that while they’re here. Kenny loves it, and Craig makes that constipated old man face.”

“I think I can manage that.”

Kyle looked Tweek up and down, admiring his chosen outfit of a cable knit sweater and skimpy yoga shorts. “Were you ah, planning to get dressed before then?” he smirked.

Spoon coming to a rest against the side of the stock pot, Tweek scrunched his eyebrows together. “What do you mean?”

He gave Tweek’s bare thighs a pat. “Oh nothing, my little provocateur.”

Tweek was such a wannabe nudist, preferring to wear what could only be called ‘hot pants’ or ‘booty shorts’ around the house. _Damn you, American Apparel._ Kyle was fairly certain Tweek would traipse around naked if their house didn’t have so many windows. In their college apartment, Kenny and Tweek had tried to institute ‘Naked Thursdays’, but quickly laughed it off as a joke when they saw how red and flustered Kyle became. They claimed they weren’t serious, but Kyle knew better.

“I’ll get the salad together and set the table. You just keep working your sauce magic.”

Giggling, Tweek tapped his spoon against Kyle’s head. “Not magic, just sweet skills.”

Kyle raised his eyebrows. “Did that...have sauce on it?”

“... No.” Tweek gingerly laid the spoon in the sink and pulled a clean one from the canister on the counter. “But if it _did_ , the sauce would just blend in _ngh_ with your hair...right?”

What an ornery creature. Snatching a spatula from the counter, he gave Tweek a swat on the rear. “Uh huh. How about I make your ass the same color, too?”

“Mmm maybe later. ” Tweek turned to face him and looped his arms around Kyle’s neck, leaning against him expectantly.

Acting on instinct and desire, Kyle held Tweek’s waist and captured his lips. Tweek bent his knees ever so slightly, and Kyle braced himself for what was coming. With a little hop, Tweek wrapped his legs around Kyle’s waist and crossed his ankles. Kyle silently cursed himself, he should know better than to tempt the beast. Tweek was the impulsive one; excitable and mischievous. Kyle was the good boy. He was _Tweek’s_ good boy.

Their first kiss was elysian. Something they both dearly wanted, but had no awareness of it until it actually occurred. It was so spontaneous that they weren’t even processing that it was happening, both melting into each other as though they’d done it hundreds of times before. Kyle knew he had loved Stan, but kissing someone who was more than willing to match every bit of love he gave without hesitation was an entirely new echelon of existence.

After a minute, Kyle broke the kiss, letting Tweek dangle by the arms as he unhooked the crossed ankles on his back. “Oh, no no no, don’t you start what you can’t finish. Besides, the guys aren’t expecting dinner _and_ a show.”

Tweek huffed and stepped away; however, he was smiling when he returned to Kyle’s side with a damp cloth. Carefully wiping the red curls, Tweek picked out a piece of celery and gave Kyle a peck on the cheek. They moved around in a comfortable silence, straightening the kitchen and preparing the dining room.

Leafy greens and salad accoutrement began piling up on the cutting board as Kyle absently chopped. He looked down at his fingers and the knife in his hand, though his gaze was unfocused and his mind wandered. The knife blade made contact with his middle finger and Kyle froze, steeling himself for blood or pain. _Oh thank fuck._ He’d only sliced his fingernail. Walking to the sink, he discarded the bit of nail and washed his hands, then returned to his task.

“Hey, Tweek?” He blew a stream of air upward, bouncing a few curls off his forehead.

Tweek hummed in acknowledgement while he slid the garlic bread into the oven. “Mmhmm?”

“I uh, had a weird encounter today.”

Kyle set his knife on the cutting board and looked over at Tweek, who came to his side and put an arm around his hips. This was they rhythm they created over the years. Learning to pause so the other could express themselves, taking it one issue at a time. Tweek was trying to read his face, and to be honest, Kyle had no idea what his expression showed.

“I...saw Stan in the train station this evening.”

“You saw Stan.” Tweek’s fingers twitched against Kyle’s skin. “Did you talk to him?”

A sigh. “Yeah, for a few minutes I did.”

“How did you feel when you _ngh_ saw him?”

“At first? Trapped. Guilt. Dread.”

“How do you feel now?”

“A bit shell shocked. But satisfied. I wouldn’t call it ‘closure’, I had that _years_ ago, you know?” Tweek nodded and gave him a little squeeze in acknowledgement. “It’s- I don’t know. It’s affirmation or something? Reassurance that we aren’t necessarily doomed to be bitter or stuck in the mistakes we’ve made. That if things stay that way, it’s mostly our own doing. He’s well, he has a family. I’m glad, really. It’s not like I wanted him to be miserable...well okay, maybe I did in the beginning.”

“I’m proud of you, love. That was difficult, but you’re in a really good place to handle it. You know i-it’s okay to talk to him more if you want.“

“I have no idea if I do.”

“You don’t have to make any decisions now, and you can change your mind. Tell me more about your talk later tonight, ‘kay?”

“Of course.”

Kyle leaned against Tweek, smooshing his cheek into the fluffy blonde waves and sighing. What an exhausting day. Introspection, emotionally charged conversations. But, their best friends were on the way over, they had delicious food to share, and Kyle had his dear, impish, neurotic, flawed, perfect husband to enjoy it with.

Tweek even converted to Judaism, unprompted and without obligation. He mostly did it to learn about and participate in Kyle’s culture, but he coincidentally found that some Jewish philosophy aligned with his Buddhism. Kyle’s family was eager to accept him, and since Tweek’s parents were who they were, he was just as eager to join them. As a mikvah day present, Kenny gave Tweek a leather paddle adorned with Star of David cutouts. Tweek had cackled, slapping the paddle against his palm several times. Craig, however, muttered, ‘Oh my god,’ and dropped his face into his hand. Kyle had blushed, though not from embarrassment. 

* * *

 When the doorbell rang, they both froze to lock eyes, each vying for the duty of greeting their guests. As Kyle prepared to launch himself away from the counter, however; Tweek dropped his knife and the garlic bread on the cutting board, and pushed Kyle aside. Wiping the bread crumbs on his shorts, Tweek sprinted to the foyer, his bare feet hitting the wood floors in loud slaps. From the videos and pictures Craig showed him of their childhood, Kyle recognized this as the Tweek who raced his friends to the ice cream truck, and the wild, shirtless little boy who covered himself in war paint to play barbarian. Several of his childhood costumes were shirtless, actually. Yep, definitely a wannabe nudist.

Kyle watched as his husband ushered their best friends into the house and kissed them each on the cheek; Craig bending down to meet Tweek, and Kenny picking him up and swinging him in a circle. Tweek beamed at the two of them as he tugged them into the dining room, chattering in his raspy voice about how excited he and Kyle were that they could come over. As their guests settled into their places at the table, Kyle assured Kenny that yes, there was garlic bread to go with the pasta, even though he thought it was starch overkill. Craig agreed, despite looking at Kenny with a lopsided smile and tenderly running his fingers over the nape of his neck.

Carrying the food to the table, Kyle tried to imagine what kind of ‘uncles’ Kenny and Craig would be. Craig would probably be the biggest softest dork, cooing at the babies and blowing raspberries on their tummies. Kenny was a veteran, he pretty much raised his little sister, Karen. Kyle could see him in the middle of a conversation and without missing a beat, he’d blindly reach out to catch the child right as they started to fall or put something unsafe in their mouth. They’d go to the playground; Ken would show the kiddos how to ride their bikes without using their hands and how to do somersaults off the swings. Craig would fret that he’d break the babies, and Kenny would remind him that the “babies” are now seven years old.

As they ate, Kyle felt Tweek’s leg bouncing while he tried to reign in his elation. Kenny and Craig shared quizzical looks and and amused smirks at Tweeks fidgeting and the way his voice sometimes popped out much louder than he intended. They looked to Kyle at one point, who just chuckled silently and shook his head. He was absolutely as excited as Tweek, but seeing him lose all his chill calmed the fluttering in Kyle’s chest.

He got the side-eye for half the meal before Tweek broke and squeezed his leg to get his attention. Of course. Of course Tweek used his signature method of persuasion; a seductive, yet desperate pout. Among other things, it was the look Tweek gave Kyle in the bedroom for…reasons. It wasn’t fair for someone to convey so much with just one look. Kyle rolled his eyes, but smirked and gave him a small nod. His hand received half a dozen rapid squeezes in thanks as Tweek epically failed to contain his grin.

“ _Gah_ W-we have someTHING TO tell you!”

_Henry. Asher. Ephraim. Vincent. Spencer. Cecily. Diana. Zelda._

**Author's Note:**

> I uh got the idea for Kenny’s mikvah day present to Tweek, because a friend gave me that same paddle as a wedding present. So that’s a thing.
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr @hagpsice


End file.
